How to Catch a Bug
by Gomes
Summary: [GC] How to catch a bug in less than 24 hours without really trying...
1. Chapter One

TITLE: How to Catch a Bug

AUTHOR: Gomey

ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know so I can brag ... hehe, j/k.

SPOILERS: Nada.

RATING: R

DISCLAIMER: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.

SUMMARY: How to catch a bug in less than 24 hours without really trying...

* * *

Catherine sighed, leaning back against the couch, and observed the barrenness surrounding her. A place that was normally bustling with bodies and conversations had been vacant for the past couple of hours, fuelling her boredom. Clicking her tongue, she lazily picked up a magazine, flipping through it with an uninterested air, as her eyes continually seemed to jump to the door...waiting for him to show up.

"Good afternoon, Catherine."

Her eyes met the grey orbs of one of the younger CSIs, who had just entered the break room, coat still in hand. Her eyes followed the droplets of water from his dampened jacket, each free-falling before they met their demise on the cold linoleum floor. Her scientific mind captured each droplet, visualizing the splattered pattern even before it collided with the floor, each casting a distinct figure. Her eyes jumped back to his, "Warrick, hey." She nodded towards his jacket, a question looming in her raised eyebrow.

"Ah, I was running a bit late - just wanted to check in, let you all know that I'm here." He looked around the empty room.

"Well, you're not the only one getting demerit points for tardiness." She swept her hands open, motioning the lack of bodies cluttering the room.

"Maybe they weren't prepared for the sudden downpour we've been getting." He theorized, pointing towards the window; rain cascading down the glass, almost like a sheet of water trapping the Las Vegas area.

Catherine let out a deep breath, frustration aimed towards a certain gentleman she was still waiting for. "Well, I got in early, before it really started pouring." She finished her last statement as Sara and Nick trudged in, both dwarfed by large rain-jackets complete with hoods.

"Pleasant day today?" Catherine chirped innocently.

"You're dry - I hate you." Sara commented dryly, her downwards smile contradicting her words of threat.

Catherine grinned, her eyes still searching for their missing link. "We're still short one member -"

"I'm here!" He bounded in, skidding in front of the break-room door, and plopped down heavily beside the strawberry-blonde. His hair was damp, and he shook it like a wet dog, sprinkling a frowning CSI in the meantime.

Catherine passed a finger across her cheek, flicking off a drop of water that clung dearly to her skin. "Thank you...Greg." She muttered, through clenched teeth. Her eyes travelled back to the door and she discreetly tried to check her watch.

"Anyone seen Grissom?" Greg voiced Catherine's unasked question.

Catherine glanced at the lab tech and shook her head.

Knowing that her supervisor's life revolved around the lab, she had come in early, hoping to seduce him into having a small breakfast to catch up on old times - and voice her fears of the sudden drifting their souls seemed to be showing signs of.

However, instead she had spent the better part of her evening putzing around the lab, before finally collapsing on the couch in the break-room, and staring out the window before succumbing to sheer boredom.

Catherine shrugged, glancing at the other CSIs. "Well, I'll head into his office and see what cases he had for us." She offered, directing herself towards the familiar room.

* * *

She checked the door and her expression clouded, finding it unlocked. She peeked her head in, noting not only a lack of a supervisor, but no movement what-so-ever. Eyeing the terrarium cautiously, she neared his desk and spied a folder with the current date stamped on it. Lightly gripping it, she turned on her heel and headed towards the door, though stopped by a rasp cough filling the room.

Her eyes caught sight of him; his being in a curled up position, facing away from her worried glance. "Gil?" She took a tentative step forward, closing the door behind her. "Someone had a late night..." She muttered to herself, taking a moment to observe him clad in a pair of black pants and a simple black sweater - a rather casual look she wasn't used to seeing.

She walked over stealthily, looking down on his sleeping form; her eyes taking in the the serenity that echoed off his face when in such a vulnerable state. She noted his position, the corners of her lips twitching ever so slightly upon catching a glimpse of a little 'Grissom skin' near his waist, most probably due to his movements while under slumber's control. She reached out, letting her hand rest on his cheek in an effort to rouse him, but not evoke any fear. "God...Gil." She withdrew her hand abruptly, placing it against her own cheek in comparison: he was hot to the touch. "Gil." She shook him a little more forcibly, worry creeping into her voice.

Gil turned over on his back, red eyes revealing fatigue with a hint of weakness following close. "Cath..." His throat scraped as his words reached her.

"You okay?" She leaned over him, one hand on the exposed skin right above his hip, the other on his forehead. She noted his flushed skin, beads of sweat adorning his temples and a slight shiver caressing his lips.

He took in her assessment and let out a tired laugh. "Yes, Catherine...I have the flu." He dead panned, turning over once again.

She stared at his back, mouth slightly open. "Okay," she began, clapping her hands together, "I'm going to hand out the assignments and then I'm taking you home." She grimaced, aware of her choice of words and finally broke out into a slow smile, fully aware that her supervisor's eyebrow was probably reaching for the stratosphere at the moment. "So, stay here and I'll go talk to the team." As she headed out the door, she called over her shoulder, "and wipe that stupid smirk off your face."

* * *

Catherine stepped back into the break-room, observing the now drying CSIs. She held up a paper and handed it to Nick, allowing her authoritative voice to echo through the room. "Okay, you're with Sara...an 11-12 near the Tangiers."

Sara's frown made no effort to conceal itself. "An 11-12?" She shook her head, "you know how I feel about cases regarding animals, Catherine."

Catherine nodded, taking up for her supervisor's decision. "I know, that's why Grissom wants you on the case - he knows that you will take it seriously."

Nick sighed. "Animals..." He commented, though it mirrored more of a pout. "I'm CSI level three...and I'm investigating a dead animal." His voice was dry, frustration evident.

Catherine rolled her eyes, impatience winning her normally controlled behaviour. Perhaps her motherly instincts were attacking full-force, letting her thoughts travel back to taking care of the docile man, curled up on a couch - for she felt her fuse run short. "Look, your names are on this file and maybe there's something more to the case. You know Grissom, he chooses CSIs because he believes their skills are deemed most appropriate to the case in question." She defended Gil's decision and before any more words were exchanged, she turned facing Warrick, closing the discussion with the two bold brunettes. "You were working solo on the DB near McCarren International Airport, but take him with you." Catherine pointed to the lab rat, who seemed in a rather antsy mood. "I'm sure Hodges can handle any evidence that needs to be processed, in the meantime."

Warrick nodded, but his furrowed brows revealed his confusion. "Where is Grissom, exactly?" He asked, and the other three stopped, curiosity winning.

Catherine sighed, pressing her lips together. She struggled whether to reveal his current vulnerability or to make up some lame 'cockroach racing' excuse. "He's uh...he's a little under the weather right now." She shrugged, letting honesty run it's course. "I'm going to drive him home, so he can rest up." She held up the folder, supporting her words. "I was scheduled for paperwork anyway, I'll just do it at his place and make sure he actually stays in bed. You know him - he'll be working even on his deathbed." She quipped sarcastically.

"Oh, I'm sure you can lure him into staying in bed all night." Greg wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, allowing his eyes to trail up and down the strawberry-blonde's toned body.

"Anyway..." Catherine eyed the young lab rat with mock distaste. "I'll be on call -"

"- I'm not going home."

All five pairs of eyes flicked simultaneously to see a rather disoriented Graveyard shift supervisor leaning sluggishly against the doorframe.

Gil shook his head. "It's just the flu, it's not the end of the world."

Sara, Nick, Greg and Warrick all took a giant step back, distancing themselves from his germed aura. Catherine rolled her eyes at their attitude and approached her best-friend, slinging his arm around her shoulder and offering him support.

"Don't you guys have work to do?" She didn't even glance at them, her focus solely on Gil.

"Aren't you afraid of getting sick, Catherine?" Sara asked.

Catherine chuckled. "I have a full-time job as a mother and as a CSI - I can't afford to get sick." She glanced over at Gil, placing her hand against his forehead again. "I got the vaccine awhile ago, it protects against most airborne germs..." She added as an afterthought.

"Smart girl." Gil smirked, though it just reflected his current frailty.

"C'mon, let's go." Catherine directed him towards the locker-room, as the four investigators watched the two senior CSIs walk off together; a knowing look not far behind.

As they were exiting the room, Sara glanced at the file in hand. "Leave it to Catherine to get distracted by Grissom..."

Her eyes caught view of the with-held cheeky grins from her co-workers, regarding the statement just uttered. "Uh...Sair, you sure that you aren't the -"

"Shut up, Nick." Sara rolled her eyes, cutting off the Texan before he could wiggle a crimson hue from her. "She read it wrong, we actually have a 211," her eyes jumped to Nick's, "a robbery."

Nick peered over Sara's shoulder, "and possible 240." He shrugged and headed out the door, "I hate assault cases." He mumbled to himself.

Warrick turned around, just in time to see Greg come back from his excursion to the lab. He eyed the young lab rat up and down. "You've got to be kidding." He sighed, turning around and heading to the parking lot.

Greg looked down at his attire, complete with utility belt, backpack and other various gadgets, strategically attached to him. "Always be prepared." He called after him. "It's the way of the CSI."

"It's the way of the Scouts." Warrick corrected.

Greg paused at the door, head cocked to the side. "So I was a scout." He shrugged, opening up an umbrella and trying to keep up with Warrick's long strides.

* * *

Meanwhile, Catherine guided Gil to the bench in the locker room and began to put on her coat. "Why didn't you just stay at home, Gil?" There was a minute trace of impatience mixed with motherly instinct that laced her tone.

"From the look of things, I figured I'd be able to handle it." He offered lamely, unconsciously rubbing his tired eyes.

"From the look of things - you look like hell." She dead panned, helping him on with his jacket.

He closed his eyes, feeling her hands on his chest, wrapped around from behind and even if it was for but a second, it was still branded in his brain. He let out a sigh, throwing a cheap 'thanks' in her direction; half towards her vivid description of his current appearance, and the other half towards her treatment of him as if he was an invalid. "Look, you don't have to do this." He shrugged. "I can drive myself home."

"In your condition?" She eyed him, taking out her umbrella. "I'm surprised you even made it here alive."

"It's just the flu, Cath." He repeated his same weak excuse and stood up abruptly. A dull ache to his body followed by a series of breath-robbing coughs followed, forcing a groan out of the ill supervisor.

Catherine stood there, leaning against her locker with a smart-alec grin blatantly standing proud.

"Take me home."

–TBC–


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimers et all in chapter one.

----------------

She forced him to match her stride as she tauntingly let the umbrella distance itself from his form, in a cruel attempt to show him who was now in control. She waited with the umbrella sheltering him from nature's deluge, observing him sluggishly climb into the passenger side of his Tahoe and buckle up.

Comfort withdrew from his body as he felt her eyes on him, and he prayed that the intensity in her gaze would soon shy away. His eyes widened as he felt her hand on his thigh, moving dangerously close to his now awakening arousal. His hips lifted off the seat slightly, as he felt her hand dip and move towards his hip. He squirmed slightly, and met curious blues, dashed with humour. "Can't very well drive without these..." She dangled his keys between her index finger and thumb, and then bumped his door closed with her hip. He stared straight ahead, vainly taking deep breaths to calm his libido and mind, as his thoughts still relived those moments close to ecstasy.

Catherine passed a hand through her damp hair, and tossed the wet umbrella in the backseat. She glanced at Gil, noticing his vacant stare, and pressed her cold hand to his cheek. "You okay."

He jumped, startled by her coolness contrasted by his warm skin. Shaking his head, he offered a weak smile, leaning in slightly against her hand. "Just tired..."

She smiled and started the car, nodding towards the road. "Just let me make one quick stop at the pharmacy, and then we'll go home, okay?" She pressed her lips together, waiting for some conflict to arise, but silence reigned in the moving vehicle. The traffic light deemed it convenient to chance a look in his direction, and she indulged such a moment, casting her gaze at the man occupying the seat beside her. She crumpled her forehead in worry, her heart going out to his ill state, even though it was only the flu. She continued to watch him breathe evenly, his forehead resting against the cool surface of the window, before she realized the traffic light's state, and resumed her journey towards the pharmacy.

* * *

Gil's eyes fluttered heavily upon feeling the car shake. He lethargically lifted his head from it's craned position, and kneaded the cramped muscle in his neck, as his blurred vision tried desperately to clear in order to shed light on his current surroundings. He leaned his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes momentarily.

Catherine stepped back out into the rain, closing the door to her supervisor's townhouse behind her. She spied him, still asleep in the car, and hurriedly walked towards the passenger side, her hand tightly gripping the umbrella that was being manhandled by the storm's molestations..

He grimaced upon feeling the wind's whip, and a few stray droplets managed to sneak by the umbrella's shield and cause disturbance. His head lolled to the side as he glanced at her, blindly jabbing the buckle until it released him from its belted hold. He swung his legs, and stepped out of the Tahoe, slightly crouching under the umbrella. Huddling close to her, his teeth starting to chatter as the cold nipped at him.

Once inside his townhouse, Catherine helped strip him of his jacket. She watched as he toed his shoes off, and walked around in a slight daze. "Gil, I drew a warm bath for you while you were resting in the car." Her voice was gentle, and he shivered, feeling her breath against his ear.

"Thanks." A rasp reply preceded a genuine smile of thanks as he made his way to the bathroom, his eyes already feeling weighted.

Catherine quickly reached for a glass, and popped two pills in her hand, hoping to reach her best-friend before he started to divest himself completely. She reached the bathroom door, and peered in, noting that he left it ajar. "Gil?" Her eyes roamed his smooth chest, and she wasn't sure whether she was glad or frustrated that she had interrupted him just as he was undoing his belt. She handed him the glass, and he downed the pills that accompanied it. "I'll be in the kitchen...if you need anything."

He nodded his understanding, and faced away from her, pulling his pants down and stepping out of them.

Catherine remained, her eyes taking in his boxered state. She blinked out of her reverie as her mind registered his hands reaching for the elastic waistband of his underwear, and turned abruptly, making a stealth exit. She leaned against the wall outside the door, her mind replaying the arousing view she had just witnessed. She pulled the handle, allowing the door to close partially, and made her way to the round dining table, located in the kitchen's vicinity.

* * *

Catherine glanced at her watch and then craned her neck to the side, casting view towards the bathroom. She furrowed her brow, contemplating checking up on her supervisor yet being well aware that even in a vulnerable state, he hated being taken care of. Closing the file in front of her, she pushed herself up and made her way to the bathroom. "Gil?" She knocked lightly, allowing her hand's momentum to let the door swing open. She stepped in fully, taking in his sleeping form, hating to have to wake him up. She knelt down by the tub, and despite her eyes strong desire to view what very few were given the prestiged opportunity to see, her mind forced her gaze to level with his. Placing her hand on his cheek, she gently roused him from his slumbered state.

He blinked and his eyes focussed on her glowing beauty, and he stared at her with boyish curiosity.

"I prefer my supervisors unpruned..." She grinned playfully, retrieving a large towel that hung on the back of the door. She turned her back to him, handing him the towel without indulging her eyes to a mouth-watering feast. Turning around, she flashed him a darling smile while taking in his state: hair untamed, chest still wet and glistening, towel lazily wrapped around his hips and an interesting expression gracing his face. "What's with the silly grin?" She asked, deftly taking a smaller towel and running it along his arm's length.

The lop-sided grin grew wider, inching towards a rare visual treat. "Nothing..."

Catherine nodded, her eyes falling to his lips and then back up to his eyes. "Nothing." She repeated. "You know what they say about people who smile for no reason, don't you?" Her eyes widened slightly at his chuckle - not used to winning such a reaction. She moved behind him, drying his back.

"This." He stated, plainly. His eyes found her form, reversed through the mirror, and he observed her, adoring her level of concentration and dedication, even on the smallest of tasks.

"This," she motioned back and forth between them, "makes you smile." It was rather dryly commented, though her smile wasn't lost to his eyes.

He blinked lethargically, his eyes preferring to remain closed due to slumber's weight. "...maybe it's the meds." He jested, cocking his head to the side and offering her another smile.

"Wouldn't doubt it." She stepped in front of him, and poised herself on the tips of her toes, as her hands guided the towel to his hair. She ruffled his hair in a drying attempt, staring at her intended task rather than meeting his eyes. A minute gasp escaped her lips, and she placed her hands on either side of his shoulders to steady herself, upon feeling a pair of hands loosely grab hold of her waist.

"Thanks, Cath." He said, smiling down at her.

They stood suspended in a moment neither desired to break, each indulging in a wink of intimacy neither had experienced before; where a mere gaze was more powerful than any form of physical contact imaginable. Fear was most definitely present, but desire was creating an invisible magnetic pull, which allowed the two souls to stay connected no matter where they were and what they were doing.

"Definitely the medication." Catherine broke the spell, offering lame humour to hide her vulnerability. She stepped out of his embrace, and retrieved his robe that was hanging up. Stepping behind him, she spread it open, enticing him to enter the cocooned warmth that she bid by using the robe as a host. "You need to rest, Gil." She grabbed him by the hand and led him to his bedroom, helping him under the covers.

He scooted closer to the middle of his king-size bed, allowing her ample room to seat herself beside him. His eyes ached from remaining open against weight's will, but he refused to let her beauty go wasted and fought against the exhaustion's strong pull.

Pulling his bedside table's drawer open, Catherine fished around with a certain object in mind. She plucked it out amidst the drawer's clutter, and held it up victoriously. "Open." She coaxed her supervisor, holding the thermometer close to his mouth. Her eyes watched as his lips slowly parted, and at that moment, she selfishly wanted nothing but to feel them on her skin, to feel them against her own. Exhalation softly, she slipped the thermometer in his mouth, mesmerized by his lips and the sensual images that it created.

Gil held her gaze and despite the medication's delusions, he curiously observed the darkening of her eyes that were fixated on his lips. Finally, her eyes' awareness presented itself, and she raised them to meet his, each set questioning and answering cryptic statements.

The thermometer signalled it's result, and she watched as it slid smoothly out of his mouth, trailing along his full lower lip. She held the instrument at eye level, though her stare never faltered from his mouth. "I suspected as much, 101.9 degrees." She nodded, placing a hand to his forehead, disguised as temperature confirmation, but truthfully as a means to part with the sensation of his skin under her fingertips. "You get some rest, okay?" She smiled, her hand lightly brushing through his hair. "I might as well get that paper done, huh?" It was rhetorical, and she stayed locked in her position, hand still tangled in his curls, until his eyes began to descend to slumber. Her body forced her to remain for a spell longer, just taking in his comforted state, and she pulled the blankets up slightly higher, tucking him in. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed herself up, and began to leave the room, her hand unwillingly travelling behind her.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Cath."

She turned on her heel, observing him, eyes still closed. Walking up to him, she grasped his hand, giving it a supporting squeeze in return. She loosened her grip and was about to let go when a sudden strong tug forced her off her feet and on to the bed; her torso landing half beside, and half on her supervisor's chest. She moaned as impulsive lips claimed her own, and logical sense retreated as she gave into her heart's demand, tasting him as much as he was tasting her. "Gil..." She breathed into his mouth, granting his tongue access to tango with hers.

As oxygen grew stronger, she placed a gentle kiss on his lower lip before parting, raising herself slightly off his chest. She let her finger run the contour of his lips, before dotting them again with small pecks. She felt his even breathing and dropped her head to his chest, realizing that the medication had chosen moment's most awkward state to kicked in, dragging him into a somnambulist state. Sighing, she pushed herself off his torso, only to have her chest meet his again. She tilted her head to the side, seeing and feeling his arms locked around her petite frame. "Great." She muttered, blowing out a frustrated puff of air.

Minutes on end past as she squirmed and shifted, trying to incite him to loosen his death-grip on her. "Gil...I have work to do." It was a fruitless attempt, and some where in the back of her mind, a voice told her to just accept what fate had thrown at her. Sighing reluctantly, she managed to disturb their current positions to a level of comfort that seemingly appeased them both: chance allowing her to lay on her side, with her best-friend's spooned behind her. "Who would have guessed that tight-ass Gil Grissom is a cuddler..." She muttered to herself, her yawn warping her words. She listened to the even breathing of the man behind her, who's arms still held her securely, and found sleep herself, amidst the comfort of her desire's dreams.

* * *

His eyes lazily drew back sleep's curtains, and he was blessed with a golden view. Confusion soon followed this bliss that coursed through his body, as his hands twitched, inciting a dozed moan from beside.

Catherine rolled back her shoulders in an effort to stretch her cramped muscles. She turned around to face her partner, having felt his hands loosen slightly. She smiled a greeting, her eyes full of questions. "How are you feeling?"

Wrinkled-browed, he stared at her, questions filling his own gaze. "Good." He replied curtly, and then blinked away his abruptness. "Better, actually...what are you doing in my bed?"

Catherine grinned, knowing Gil's preference to always cut to the chase. "You pack a mean bear hug." She replied Puckishly, throwing him a darling smile.

His eyes widened, and he released his hold, drawing his arms near his body. His eyes travelled down her form, to meet her legs that were entangled with his. In an untangling attempt, his foot brushed against her's and his eyes immediately sought her blues, for a reaction assessment. He gazed at the intrigue behind her look, and interpreted an almost dare calling out to him through her stare. He testingly let his shin slide against her smooth calf; always watching for a reaction.

She glanced at his eyes, then trailed down to his lips before pulling back to cast gaze at his eyes once again. It was her way of granting him the permission she hoped he was searching for.

Gil brought a hand to cup her face, allowing his thumb to graze her bottom lip. He leaned towards her, his body almost zippering against hers from the feet upwards, until his lips connected with his longing. His tongue's pressure forced her lips apart, and he savagely tasted her; his hands slowly awakening to the power of unbeatable attraction. He sought out her curves, his fingers nimbly tracing over every surface of her body - clothed or not, and yet he still hungered for more.

She pressed her body against him, trying desperately to be absorbed by his being. Her hands found his chest through his now open robe, and she let her fingers dance across his heated skin. "Gil..." she murmured between their lipped battle, "you're burning up again." Her tongue trailed down his chin, tasting the devishly handsome cleft that defined his face, down his neck and stopping at his collarbone.

"I'm fine...don't stop." He hissed, his head lolling back as his body gave in to the arousing sensations that she was creating. He felt her hands slip to his waist, her nails digging into his flesh as her tongue greeted each nipple before dipping into his navel. He thrust his hips up at the sudden jolt of pleasure, all orchestrated from her tongue, that teased and tickled its way across his body.

Catherine straddled his thighs, pushing herself lower and lower until she reached the sensitive area right above his pelvis. She administered several small pecks, enjoying the feel of his muscles spasming with each specific contact made. Her hand brushed against his arousal and she felt his whole body jerk violently, coughs soon invading her ears. The site of his whole body convulsing due to his coughs was too much for her heart to bear, so she straddled his lap, forcing him into a body-hug. She tried to calm him with soothing words and a comforting hand rubbing lazy circles on his back.

After he had calmed down, he pulled back slightly, admiring her flawless beauty. "Let's put that," his eyes glanced down and then sheepishly back up, "on hold for awhile." He sought her lips again, bringing her body flush against his, his lips telling of his love and respect for her.

She kissed back the same statement, adding promises of her own. "Get some rest, okay?" She pressed one more kiss to his lips before placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back down on the bed. She watched as his eyes tugged closed before she settled herself beside him, watching her lover sleep.

* * *

Gil held the lab door open for Catherine and they both scouted their surroundings. Offering a quick kiss, they quickly made haste in opposing directions, secrecy lacing their actions.

Catherine sneezed for the tenth time in the last three minutes, as she made her way to the break room. Producing a Kleenex from her purse, she blew her nose and tossed it into the garbage as she entered the room.

"Woah, shouldn't you be quarantined?" Nick smiled, despite taking a couple of steps back.

Catherine looked up to hand Nick her famous evil-eye, only to notice that everyone else had also retreated to the other side of the room.

"I thought you had the vaccine..." Sara remarked, speaking more to the floor then to the strawberry-  
blonde.

"I did." Catherine coughed, lying down on the vacated couch.

"Against airborne influenza." Warrick added, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Hey." Gil walked in without looking up from his folders. "Nick, Warrick - you guys have a shooting at the Tangiers. Apparently a customer wasn't happy with the waitress's service." He handed them a file.

"Thanks - you look better, Grissom." Nick commented, taking the file from their supervisor.

"I feel better. Sara, take Greg with you," he passed the file to her, "floater."

"Yum." The brunette dead panned.

"Catherine - go home." Gil finally looked up, tucking some folders under his arm. "I'm going to take Catherine home, so I'll be on call if anyone needs me."

Nick's Cheshire grin slowly materialized. "Hey guys, what are the different ways to become infected with the influenza virus?" His question was slow and deliberate, revealing a suspicion to only the young CSIs.

"Well, there's the airborne virus - which is primary." Warrick offered with a confident nod.

"Contact." Greg chimed in, pressing his body against Sara's back in order to weight his statement, and get a riled reaction out of the young brunette. He smiled sheepishly when she pushed him away, and despite her reaction, still wiggled his brows at her - winning a rare smile for his effort.

"Hmm...there's still another." Nick tapped a finger to his lip, mimicking deep contemplation. "What other method can germs employ, to transfer from one system to another?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Saliva, Nick. Saliva! You learned that in basic biology that an easy way to exchange microbes is by exchanging saliva." Her monotonous voice echoed through the now silent room and she narrowed her eyes with intrigue, assessing the young Texan's reaction. Her eyes snapped to her supervisor's as realization hit, and she observed him: shaking his head with a embarrassed and an amused smile.

"Busted!" Greg sang, as he followed Sara and Warrick out of the break room.

"So that's why Grissom's feeling better..." Nick mused aloud, leaving the pair alone, grinning like fools.

–Finis–


End file.
